Forging the Blades: A Tale of the Zulu Rebellion

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  BLUFF--AND COUNTERBLUFF.

  When they reached home they found a visitor awaiting them, in the shapeof Harry Stride. Ben Halse, for all his hospitable instincts, secretlyand within himself wished him at the devil. Verna would rather he hadnot come--just then; but Denham, of the trio, was the least concerned.So secure was he in his own happiness that he could not but be sorry forthe man who had failed to draw his at the same source. But as far asany outward manifestation of lack of welcome was concerned the newarrival had no cause of complaint.

  During the evening they talked generalities, the state of the country,the day's visit to Sapazani, and so forth. But Stride, while notmanifesting the former instinctive hostility towards Denham, did notfail to notice, with jealous eyes, the perfect understanding whichseemed to prevail between him and Verna. Were they engaged? hewondered. They must be, judging from a look which, more than once, hesaw pass between them. Well, he had a card up his sleeve, but he wouldnot throw it until the morning. So he went on chatting about things ingeneral, and Verna was especially kind to him. Denham too, with readytact, refrained from anything that might be construed into bordering onan air of proprietorship! out of consideration for the poor fellow'sfeelings; and when Verna went out with Stride for a quarter of an houror so to look at the night, he remained chatting with Ben Halse.

  "You won't be shooting each other in the night, will you, Denham?" saidthe latter drily. The point of the joke was that, accommodation beingsomewhat limited, the two men would have to share the same room.

  "I'll try not to return the fire; but, on the whole, perhaps I'd betterstick a dummy in the bed, and slip outside. Poor chap! Nobody could bemore sorry for him than myself."

  "I'm sure of that. Well, every man must take his chance, and Harry'syoung yet. He's a good sort of boy, but I don't believe he'll ever domuch for himself."

  "Perhaps he's never had a show."

  "That's the worst of it. A lot of these young fellows come drifting upto this country knowing nothing about it, and think they're going topick up gold under every stone. That prospecting business is justfoolery. They'd much better settle down to some steady job. And yet,and yet--where'd I have been myself if I hadn't let out and chanced it?Well, it's a world of pitch and toss, after all."

  Stride was the first to turn in, and when his companion followed he hadrolled himself in his blanket as though asleep. But he was wide awakeenough in reality. He hated that other so intensely that he could nottrust himself to speak now that they were alone together. Some peoplehad all the advantages of life and others none; and here this stranger,solely because he was a rich man, or was reputed to be, must have a freewalk over; must come here and rob him of all that made life worthliving--hope, to wit. Well, to-morrow he would fire the first shell.And he did.

  Just after breakfast, but before they got up from table, Stride produceda square envelope.

  "I took a few snapshots down in the Makanya the other day," he said,drawing out some prints. "What d'you think of that, Mr Denham?"handing one across the table to him.

  Denham took it, and it was all he could do not to let it drop. Theghastly face staring at him from the glazed paper, hideous and bloatedthrough immersion and decomposition, was that of the head which SergeantDickinson had been at such pains, and trouble, and risk to photograph.There was a frightful fascination about it, and he continued to gaze,aware the while that Stride was fixing his face with a pitiless glance.

  "Well, what d'you think of it?" said the latter, growing impatient.

  "Think? Why, that it's a good study of a dissecting-room subject, but abeastly thing to spring upon any one just after breakfast. Where didyou get it?" handing it back.

  "It was taken below the Bobi drift. A head was found sticking in thebushes, also some clothes, with things in the pockets. I, before that,found a saddle with a bullet hole through the flap."

  "Yes; you told us that at the club the other night, I remember. Sothey've found more?"

  Stride was puzzled. He thought to have knocked the enemy all of a heap,but the said enemy had never wilted, beyond what a man might naturallydo who had an unusually ghastly and repulsive picture suddenly sprungupon him, as Denham had said, just after breakfast.

  "But isn't it our turn to be let into the mystery?" suggested Vernasweetly.

  "Oh, I don't know. No; I won't show it to you," answered Stride. "Itis rather nasty, isn't it, Mr Halse?" handing it on to him.

  "Looks so. Ugly-looking Jew, I should say. Wonder what the devil hewas doing down there. I suppose they shot him for plunder. Zulus arenot what they were. Time was when a white man was perfectly safe in anypart of this country. Who took the photo, by the way?"

  "Dickinson, at Makanya."

  "Oh yes, the police sergeant. Well, have they investigated?"

  "Rather. They've got at his identity, too. He was a Jo'burg Jew namedHyam Golding. The next thing is to find out what induced him to travelthat way at all. It doesn't lead anywhere in particular."

  "Let me see it," said Verna. "I'm not of the hysterical,`fainting-female' order, am I? Thanks," as it was handed to her. "Whata horrid-looking man he must have been. I mean apart from theconditions under which this was taken. Let's see some of the others."

  He complied. One he kept out, and handed it to Denham.

  "Do you recognise it?" he asked. "You came through it, I think yousaid."

  "Did I? I think not, considering I didn't know one drift from theother. However, it's just possible I may have; but one drift is verylike another, especially in photography."

  "It's the Bobi."

  Somehow Verna's instincts were instantly on the alert. There was morethan a subtle something in Stride's manner and remarks, a sort of"making a dead set" smack about them. She became cold and hostiletowards him at once. He saw this, and realised he had make a mistake.So he left the subject of the head, and drew attention to the otherprints.

  His plan had failed. He had thought to induce Denham to give himselfaway before the others, and that completely. But he had reckonedwithout the cool nerves of Denham. Well, the next card to play wasbluff.

  An opportunity was not easy to find. Most of the morning they sat inthe shade, and smoked and chatted. But later, when Verna was busyindoors, and something had taken Ben Halse away, Stride said--

  "I've got something to tell you. How about taking a bit of a stroll,where no one'll hear us?"

  "All right. Let's."

  They strolled off together a little way. Suddenly Stride said--

  "Rum thing this murder down in the Makanya, isn't it?"

  "I don't know enough about it to say. But I suppose there's no doubtabout it being a murder?"

  "Not a particle. Dickinson has worked the thing up in first-rate style.There's hardly a link missing from the chain."

  "Not, eh? There's a saying, though, that a chain is no stronger thanits weakest link; but if the link is not merely weak but missingaltogether, what's the use of that chain?"

  "The link can be supplied," said Stride meaningly. "Dickinson could puthis hand on the right man at any minute."

  "Then why the devil doesn't he?"

  The straightness of this query rather nonplussed Stride. But heremembered that men in desperate straits had many a time been known tosave the situation by consummate bluff.

  "Perhaps he isn't quite sure where he is at this moment," he answered."I could help him."

  "Then why the devil don't you?"

  "Look here. Let's quit beating around the bush," said the other,speaking quickly. "Will you take a piece of advice?"

  "Can't say until I hear it. But I'll promise to consider its burdenwhen I do."

  Denham was getting rather sick of all this mysterious hinting. He wasalso getting a bit "short."

  "I'll give it you in one word, then," was the answer. "Skip."

  "Don't see the joke. Explain."

  "Don't see it, eh?"

>   "Not even a little bit."

  "Well, bluff's a good dog sometimes," sneered the other, who thought hewould enjoy a different situation directly. "Still, you take my tip andskip, with the smallest loss of time you can manage. I don't supposethey'll bother to follow up the thing very keenly once you're clean outof the country. And if you're wise you mighty soon will be. Get outthrough Swaziland and into German territory if you can, or at any ratekeep dark. Halse will be able to help you."

  All this while Denham had been looking at the speaker with a kind ofamused curiosity. At the close of the above remark he said--

  "What's the matter with you?"

  "What d'you mean?" snarled Stride, who was fast losing his temper.

  "Mean? Why, that I'm wondering why you asked me to come out with you tolisten to all the nonsense you have just been talking. You're notdrunk, any fool can see that, and yet you fire off some yarn about someJew found drowned, or murdered, or something, down in the Makanya; andtalk about chains and missing links and all sorts of foolishness, and onthe strength of it all invite _me_ to `skip.' Really the joke strikesme as an uncommonly thin one."

  "It'll take the form of an uncommonly thick one," snarled the other,"and that a rope, dangling over a certain trap-door in Ezulwini gaol.Well, I thought to do you a good turn, came up here mostly to do it, andthat's how you take it. Well, you may swing, and be damned to you."

  Denham lit a fresh cigar. He offered his case to his companion, but itwas promptly refused.

  "Now let's prick this bubble," he said, looking the other fair andstraight in the eyes. "From a remark you made in the club the otherevening I gathered you wanted to insinuate that I had murdered some one.That, of course, I didn't take seriously."

  "There may have been others who did, though," interrupted Stride.

  "No matter. Then you roll up here, and suggest that I am wanted as themurderer of some unknown Jew, whose top end appears to have been foundin the Makanya bush. You know, if I were less good-natured, you mightget into serious trouble over such a thing as that. You insinuated itin the presence of the Halses, too."

  "Meaning an action for slander, I suppose. Go ahead. I defy you tobring it. Do you hear? I defy you to bring it."

  "It isn't worth while. Still, if you go on spreading these stories allover the country I may be compelled to. It's one thing to makeaccusations, but quite another to prove them. To prove them," herepeated emphatically, with his eyes full upon the other's, and a suddenhard ring coming into his tone with the last words.

  Inwardly Stride was conscious of his first misgiving in the matter. Hewas as certain in his own mind that the man before him had, for somereason or other, killed the one, part of whose remains had been found,as that the sun shone. But between certainty and proof was a far cry.He was not lawyer enough to know that in such a case as this anyevidence that could be got together would be of the circumstantial kind,and not necessarily conclusive, and he had come here with the expressobject of frightening Denham out of the country altogether. Instead hehad found that Denham was not the sort of man to be frightened at all.

  "Oh, the proof'll come right enough," he answered, with an easiness thatwas more than half affected. Then seriously, "Look here, you know I'veno reason exactly to belove you?"

  Instantly Denham's tone softened.

  "I think I can guess," he said, "and cannot but be sorry. But that isall in the fair chances of life. How can I help it?"

  "Help it? Damn `helping it,'" was the furious reply. "But now, lookhere. I--with others--am going to make it the business of life to bringthis thing home to you. We shall hunt up every scrap and particle ofevidence of your movements since you first landed, your every movement.There's one chance for you and it the last. Clear out--now, at once."

  "Now, really, you make me laugh. Is it in the least likely?"

  "What is in the least likely?"

  Both started. Verna had come up behind them, but though she had coughedmore than once, in the tension of their discussion they had failed tohear her. She had foreseen a quarrel when she saw them go off alonetogether, and had made up her mind as to the best means of preventingit. And it was perhaps just as well that she had.